


smiles of honey gold

by yoogiboobi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild manga spoilers, Summer Fic, Summer Vacation, resort/beach setting, soft and happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoogiboobi/pseuds/yoogiboobi
Summary: “Last one in the water pays for our first date back in Tokyo,” Akaashi says, grins, and that’s all the warning he gives before he springs to his feet and dashes towards the ocean twinkling golden in the sunset.Bokuto is up and chasing after him in less than a second, yelling. “Akaashi!! You can’t just do that and then run away! That’s so not cool!”—five days of summery fun starring bokuaka~ ☆features iwaoi, kuroken and endless banter !!
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 41
Kudos: 304
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five years later, bokuaka (and haikyuu in general) have me in their clutches again haha :-)  
> this is v short, v sweet and v silly! i hope it provides you with some wholesome summer joy and respite from the cursed year we've been having.  
> also pls be aware that while this is an AU, it contains mild manga spoilers.
> 
> posted for bokuaka week 2020!!  
> happy reading~
> 
> edit: just a few days after i posted this fic i learned that bokuto's team is based in osaka lmao but for the sake of this fic (and my peace of mind), let's imagine BJ are based in tokyo

— Monday —

“Kou-chan, could I please ask you to drop by the pool services before you come meet us and request two lounge chairs? Tetsu-chan hogged the last one available and Iwa-chan broke another,” Oikawa’s voice comes from the speaker of Bokuto’s phone from where he had thrown it onto the bed in favour of looking for his swim shorts.

“Pool services?” Bokuto replies from the other side of the room while he digs through his overstuffed duffle bag. “Sure! Where’s that?”

“Oh, it’s easy,” Oikawa assures him, before rattling off a series of directions, of which Bokuto can recall exactly two by the time he’s finished. “If you get lost just ask any of the staff, they’ll point you in the right direction!”

“Right, yeah. I’ll be over soon, then!”

“Very grateful for your sacrifice, Kou-chan!”

 _Sacrifice_ , Bokuto imagines, because it’s so hot outside it’s almost hard to breathe and because the only thing he’s been thinking about ever since he stepped off the train about an hour ago has been the sweet respite of submerging his entire body in a cold body of water.

The call drops and Bokuto whoops with joy as he finally sees the yellow of his swim shorts peek through from the bottom of his bag. He throws them on, slings a towel over his shoulder, then books it out of the house.

Once he’s outside, it doesn’t take him very long to realize he’d greatly underestimated the vastness of the resort they’re staying at. He’d come at Oikawa’s invitation, whose aunt’s house they’re all staying at, but volleyball practice had held him back in Tokyo until lunch time so he’d taken the four hour long train ride by himself, as Kuroo and Kenma had made the trip earlier that morning. They’d all come to pick him up at the station, but he’d been quick to usher them along to the pool while he went up to the apartment to drop off his luggage and change into his swimwear. That did mean, however, that now he must fend for himself in this jungle of tall palm trees, winding paths, and buildings that all look the same as the ones before.

There are signs pointing to several pools—Southern pool, Northeastern pool, Western pool, how many are there, really?—but none that direct him towards the actual pool services. He remembers Oikawa’s first direction and circles around to the back of their building, then takes a flight of stairs as he recalls there being _stairs_ somewhere in the middle of his explanation. He follows along the path from there, surrounded by lush grass and other thriving greenery, taking a 50/50 chance whenever his route bifurcates, hoping the odds are on his side.

It’s by sheer luck that he finds his way into a water playground area for kids, which, according to Oikawa’s explanation, is apparently positioned just in front of the pool services. He walks the remaining distance, squealing kids and busy families stealing his attention for a moment, then huffs in relief as he spots a warehouse-looking unit with _Pool Services_ written above the double doors.

There’s a man standing in front of it, jotting down something on a clipboard. Judging by the black polo with the embroidered resort logo and the matching shorts, Bokuto figures he must be part of the staff, so he walks up to him.

“Excuse me, are you a staff here? Pool services?” Bokuto asks.

The man does a double take at him, apparently so absorbed in his task he’d been caught off guard by being suddenly approached. But he’s not the only one taken by surprise here. Bokuto is entirely unprepared for the face that greets him when the man looks up. Deep green eyes, overgrown dark curls and sharp features, he blows right through Bokuto’s 1-10 scale. If he had to give this man a number, he’d be a solid 23. Maybe 25, if you count the unimpressed pout. _Perhaps_ a 30, if you count the eyebrows too but—but there’s no time for such irrelevant deliberations because the man is talking to him and if Bokuto doesn’t listen he will most likely make a fool of himself.

“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” He replies, politely, clicking his pen and tucking it on the chest pocket of his polo.

In a fleeting struggle to hide the sudden chaos in his head from showing on his face, Bokuto’s nervous system briefly stops all brain to mouth communication, and what comes out of him is not what he wants to say at all, but is instead the last thing his eyes have settled on.

“Pen,” he blurts out.

“Pardon me?” The man tilts his head to the side.

And as his cognition returns to him as fast as it left, making him realize his blunder, Bokuto tries to play it off. “Uhm. A pen. I was wondering if you had one I could borrow?” Good enough, he thinks. All good. Crisis averted.

“Oh, certainly,” the man says, despite having looked surprised at the request for a second. He looks around him and pats the back pocket of his shorts, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had just tucked a pen into his chest pocket. Bokuto is about to point that out to him when he speaks up again. “If you’ll give me a minute,” then he bows lightly and excuses himself to enter the warehouse behind him, in search of a pen Bokuto doesn’t need.

Bokuto takes the time to physically slap his own forehead as soon as he’s out of sight, focusing back on the reason why he came here in the first place. Lounge chairs. Two of them. Task focus.

The man returns just a few seconds later holding a sleek mechanical pencil, which he hands over to Bokuto. “I do apologize, but I’m afraid I do not have a pen on me at the moment. Will a pencil do instead?”

 _You have a pen right there_ , Bokuto thinks, stealing a glance at the offending object peeking from the top of the pocket. Maybe that’s the only pen he has and he needs it to keep doing his job. Maybe that’s _his_ personal pen and he doesn’t want to hand it over. Maybe—maybe it doesn’t matter and he should stop his thoughts from derailing any further and give an answer instead.

“A mechanical pencil will do just fine, thank you!” Bokuto says, taking it.

The man bows lightly again. “Happy to be of service. Might there be anything else I can do for you?”

“Uh, yes, actually! Apparently we’re short on lounge chairs by the Eastern pool,” Bokuto says, gesturing in the general direction of where he _thinks_ the Eastern pool might be. “I think we’re in need of two more?”

“I see. I shall request two chairs to be brought to you promptly, then. May I have the family name of the residence you’re staying at, please?”

“Oikawa?” Bokuto says, even though he’s not sure if the house is on Oikawa’s aunt’s last name. The man’s eyebrows lift in surprise at his reply but he’s quick to school his expression into polite neutrality once again. Bokuto doesn’t know what could’ve possibly caused such a reaction, but he does know he feels a bit weird asking for things to be brought to him like this. He wishes he could just carry the chairs himself instead.

“Noted. Would that be all?”

“Yes, thank you so much!” Bokuto says with his best smile to make up for the awkward interaction, ready to put it all behind him and finally march towards the pool to meet his friends—but maybe not _all_ of it because that _was_ a damn pretty face he’ll have a hard time forgetting.

The man excuses himself again and that’s Bokuto’s cue to leave as well. He makes his way around the resort a lot more easily this time since he can just follow the signs to his destination. He soon spots Oikawa and Iwaizumi sitting on the same lounge chair by the pool, Kenma hiding from the scorching afternoon sun under a parasol and Kuroo sitting in the sun next to him. They’re all talking animatedly when he walks up to them.

“Oh Kou-chan, you’re here,” Oikawa greets him. “Did you manage to find the pool services?”

“Yeah, ‘twas a piece of cake! He said they should be bringing the chairs here soon,” Bokuto says, looking around to check for any signs of incoming chairs and pretty boys, but there are none to be seen at the moment. But talking about it does remind him of something. “Oh, and I think I need to go return this, eventually,” he says, contemplating the mechanical pencil in his hand he’d entirely forgotten about.

“Where’d you get that from?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Err, the pool services?”

“What’d you even need it for? Impromptu autograph signing?” Kuroo teases.

Bokuto hums, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. “No—nothing really? I just panicked.” He realizes belatedly that he should’ve have left that last part out as he’s met with four pairs of confused stares. He sighs, resigned to whatever consequences his next words might bring him. “The dude from the pool services was cute, that’s all.”

That earns him two combined cackles from Iwaizumi and Kuroo, a snort from Kenma and a surprised grin from Oikawa.

“Did you perhaps meet Sugawara? Or was it Akaashi?” At Bokuto’s blank stare, Oikawa elaborates, “Bright silver hair with a cute birthmark by his eye and a blinding smile? Or awfully polite with dark, messy hair?”

Bokuto’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s him—dark hair and so polite it made me feel inadequate.”

Oikawa coos, “That’s adorable, Kou-chan! Akaashi is cool. Pretty, too.”

Bokuto neither confirms nor denies Akaashi’s prettiness, just keeps staring at the pencil, although he’s sweating a lot more profusely than he was just a few minutes ago. The fact that there’s a pool behind him and he still isn’t in it is a crime.

“I’m sure he’ll show up around here eventually, so you can return the pencil then. Don’t worry too much about it for now,” Iwaizumi assures him.

Bokuto nods, eager to put this conversation to an end because his body temperature will just keep rising if he doesn’t put a stop to it soon. He drops the pencil on top of his towel, on a small table next to where Kenma’s sitting. “Whatever! I’m going for a swim!” He announces.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of them to follow him into the pool, all five of them resisting the urge to jump in because it’s not allowed, choosing to enter through the stairs instead, like the group of civil adults they are not.

A pair of older staff members come around a while later to drop off the requested lounge chairs and replace the broken one after Iwaizumi explains the chair had already been broken when he’d gotten to it. It’s only when the sun is lazily setting behind the resort houses and they’ve all gotten out of the pool to dry off that Bokuto sees Akaashi walking by.

It’d be awkward to call him over by his name all of a sudden, but he’s not about to address him as _pool services guy_ either, so he elbows Iwaizumi next to him instead, since he’d gotten the impression both Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew him.

“Hey, I think Akaashi’s over there…”

Said man is a handful of meters away from them, busy organizing chairs and closing unused parasols now that most of the crowd has cleared and the chaos has died down.

“Huh?” Iwaizumi turns, looking in the direction Bokuto nods towards. “Oh, right, that’s him. Oi, Akaashi!” Iwaizumi beckons him over without a moment’s hesitation. Bokuto flinches and takes a half step back, behind Iwaizumi.

The man turns around upon hearing his name, and his expression softens almost imperceptibly when he spots Iwaizumi. Then he begins walking over and Bokuto immediately turns on his heel, half because he needs to go fetch the mechanical pencil, half because Akaashi hasn’t gotten any less attractive since the last time he saw him less than an hour ago.

“Iwaizumi-san, Oikawa-san,” he greets when he’s standing in front of them. “Long time no see.”

“Has it really been a year since the last time we met here? Time sure flies past, Akaashi,” Oikawa says, leaning on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

Akaashi replies with a nod, “So it seems.”

“Have you been well? How’s your grandmother?” Iwaizumi asks.

Bokuto wonders if they’ve known each other for long, as they seem to be well acquainted.

“I’m doing okay. My grandmother had a small health setback earlier this year, but now she’s doing almost better than she was before.”

There’s a smile in Iwaizumi’s voice when he speaks, “I’m glad to hear that.”

They exchange a few more words, briefly catching up on a year’s worth of life. Bokuto lingers awkwardly behind Iwaizumi and Oikawa, peeking around their shoulders, wondering if he should speak up or just wait to be introduced. But Akaashi soon settles that indecision when his eyes fall on Bokuto, a spark of recognition crossing over his face, which in turn compels Bokuto to walk a little closer and speak up at last.

“Uh, hi!” He says.

“Hello,” Akaashi says simply, but it’s not like Bokuto had given him a lot to work with in the first place.

“Oh, how rude of us!” Oikawa pipes up, yanking Bokuto closer to them by the arm. “We’re staying with some friends this week! That’s Kuroo Tetsurou and Kozume Kenma,” he introduces the pair, gesturing at them.

Kenma nods in acknowledgement and Kuroo throws a _hey~_ from where he’s reclining on the lounge chair, then shoots Bokuto an eyebrow wiggle. Bokuto makes the wise decision to ignore him.

Oikawa continues with a squeeze to Bokuto’s bicep, “And this friendly owl here is Bokuto Koutarou, but I believe you’ve met each other already.”

“I do believe so too,” Akaashi comments, looking Bokuto up and down. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Come meet us at the beach one of these days, Akaashi. We’ll be around until the end of the week,” Iwaizumi offers.

“I’d like that. Let’s keep in touch? I must return to work now.”

“Certainly, we’ll see you around!” Oikawa says as Akaashi makes to leave.

“Oh, wait!” Bokuto lurches forward, having almost forgotten about the damned pencil again. “You can have your pencil back. Thank you!”

Akaashi halts his movements and takes the mechanical pencil, apparently having forgotten all about it as well.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san. I hope it was useful.”

“Very!” Bokuto assures him with ill-placed confidence. Akaashi excuses himself after that and then he’s gone.

“ _Very!_ ” Bokuto hears Kuroo repeating his words from behind him, mocking his confident tone and mimicking his power stance, hands on his hips with his chest puffed out. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are chuckling in the background. “You’re fucking hopeless, Bo.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bokuto responds, and shoves his damp towel against Kuroo’s face.

  
  
  


— Tuesday —

The next day finds Bokuto swimming laps around the pool well before nine in the morning, both because his internal clock can be his worst enemy sometimes, and because his room had felt too hot even after he’d turned on the air-conditioning, the sun beating down relentlessly against his window. So instead of idling around the house waiting for everyone else to wake up, he’d decided to put on his swim shorts and head to the pool before it got too crowded.

It had been empty when he got there, and he happily swam away any remnants of sleep and lethargy still weighing him down. Now, having lost count of how many laps he’d swam back and forth, he stops at the edge to catch his breath, shaking his hair free of excess water, then looking around to check if he’s still as alone as he was at first.

There are still no signs of any families and their numerous children, but Bokuto does see two members of the staff moving with purpose around the pool, surveying the area and fixing a few chairs, most likely making sure everything is perfect before the morning crowd arrives.

Then Bokuto recognizes one of them, and his eyes light up.

“Hey, Akaashi!” He calls out. The man in question turns around, his expression focused much like it had been yesterday, until he sees Bokuto in the pool.

“Bokuto-san,” he says as a way of greeting, walking closer to where Bokuto is hanging from the pool’s edge. “Good morning.”

“Hard at work first thing in the morning, I see?”

“So it is. And you’re up awfully early for someone who’s on vacation.”

Bokuto droops a little at that. “I forgot to close the blinds last night and my room was super hot when I woke up. Plus, I’m used to having practice quite early, so sometimes I can’t help but wake up before everyone else.”

“Practice?” Akaashi asks, looking intrigued.

“Yes! I play volleyball! Professionally!”

“Oh!” The exclamation falls out of Akaashi’s mouth, almost like it wasn’t meant to. “Are you perhaps Oikawa’s teammate, then?”

“Nope! We’re on rival teams. But we’ve been good pals since senior high! Why, Akaashi, do you keep up with volleyball at all?”

Akaashi looks off to the side, his face framed by the gentle, early morning sunlight, and Bokuto thinks he still looks unfairly good even when he’s staring up at Akaashi from what is basically ground level.

“I haven’t kept up with it in years, at least since I stopped playing regularly after graduating from senior high,” Akaashi says.

Now _that_ is something Bokuto hadn’t seen coming and he feels like a rug has just been pulled from underneath him. He rises up on his arms, lifting his torso out of the water, incapable of controlling his surprise.

“What!” He blurts out. “You played volleyball?! Why’d you stop?”

“I still play it occasionally with friends, I just didn’t pursue it professionally.”

An imperative question, “What position did you play back then?”

A crucial reply, “I was a setter.”

Setter.

_Setter._

There’s liquid fire running in Bokuto’s veins.

He jumps out of the water altogether with an elated hoot, walking closer to Akaashi, who takes a small step back and holds up two hands defensively as if to placate the very wet, very excited, very 1.90-meters-tall man currently closing in on him.

“You gotta play with us! Toss to me! I’m an outside hitter!”

“Bokuto-san, please. What could a professional volleyball player ever hope to gain by playing with me?” Akaashi furrows his eyebrows, looking genuinely lost as to why Bokuto would ever want to play with him.

“Gain? It’s just fun, Akaashi, that’s all.” Bokuto says with a tilt of his head. “Please play with me!”

“I—I don’t know. I haven’t played in a few months—”

Bokuto slaps a hand over his heart, smile wide, “That’s okay! Good or bad, I’ll hit any and all tosses you throw in my direction, promise!”

Akaashi considers him for a second. Bokuto doesn’t know what wins him over in the end, but he knows he has won even before Akaashi opens his mouth.

“Okay, Bokuto-san. I can play with you.”

Bokuto throws his hands in the hair in celebration, “Awesome! I gotta ask the guys when they’d want to play but I’ll let you know for sure!”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” Akaashi says, just before the other staff member that is still loitering around the area calls him over. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. See you around, Bokuto-san.”

“See ya, Akaashi!”

Watching him leave, Bokuto is beyond thrilled that Akaashi had not only agreed to play volleyball with him, but had also seemed so willing to engage in conversation with Bokuto. He picks up his towel and dries off, then marches his way back to the apartment to share the incredibly good news.

“Hey hey hey!” He shouts, blasting the front door open. He’d gotten a text from Kuroo before he left the pool, asking him where he was, so he knows at least one person is awake, though he soon hears Oikawa groaning from the kitchen.

“Kou-chan, it’s not even 10 in the morning, would you please tone it down?” He says.

Kuroo peeks his head around the corner, “Kenma is still asleep, dumbass.”

“Oh shit, sorry,” Bokuto says, his voice decreasing to an acceptable volume. He throws his towel on the sofa and follows Kuroo to the kitchen where Iwaizumi is brewing coffee and Oikawa is leaning against the counter next to him.

“Where the hell were you? And what got you so excited at the very early hour of 9:37 in the morning?” Kuroo asks, looking up at the clock above the oven.

“I was with Akaashi!” At the three pairs of raised eyebrows being thrown in his direction, he explains, “Well, actually I was at the pool, and he just happened to be there. Didja know he used to play volleyball?”

“Oh?” Kuroo crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, a tell-tale sign that his interest has been piqued.

“I told you he’d lose his mind,” Iwaizumi says to Oikawa with an amused shake of his head.

Bokuto points accusingly at both of them. “You two knew! And you didn’t tell me! Betrayal!”

“We figured you’d probably blow a fuse if you knew. We weren’t entirely wrong, apparently,” Oikawa says.

“I am perfectly calm right now, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s met with three different snorts at that. “Whatever, okay! Anyway! He said he’d play with us! Do you wanna book the court for later today? Maybe he’ll be able to join us after his shift ends.”

“Of course _you would_ talk him into playing volleyball with us. Always so eager,” Oikawa mutters, burying his face in Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“I like that idea, fine by me!” Iwaizumi says, and despite his grumbling, Oikawa expresses his agreement in the form of a thumbs up.

“Sounds good to me too,” Kuroo agrees.

Bokuto lets out a hoot of joy at the same time Kenma walks into the kitchen, looking like he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Kenma!” Bokuto greets. “We’re playing volleyball today, do you—”

He’s interrupted by Kenma’s deadpan, “Koutarou, your voice is a solid top five in the things I do not want to hear first thing in the morning.” Bokuto had most likely woken him up.

“Hah, if it was mine, however,” Kuroo starts, but Kenma isn’t having it either.

“No, yours would be in the top three, for sure.”

That gets the rest of them laughing, Kuroo included.

Bokuto leaves them to their morning routines and walks to the living room, where he sees his damp towel still on the sofa. He picks it up and takes it out to dry in the veranda, on the back of a chair, stealing a glance at the view of the pool that has now started to fill up with people.

It also seems like fate is smiling down on him today as he sees Akaashi crossing the lawn with a bunch of pool gear in his arms.

“Hey, Akaashi!” He calls out, leaning over the railing. Their apartment is on the second floor and Akaashi is relatively close by, so Bokuto doesn’t have to yell _too_ loud, but Akaashi’s shoulders still fly up to his ears all the same and a few passersby look up at him as well. Being quiet has never been Bokuto’s forte. He waves his arms to make it easier for Akaashi to spot him, and when he does, he hurries closer to the veranda.

“Bokuto-san, as a member of the resort staff, I must ask you to not cause such a ruckus,” he says, just loud enough for Bokuto to hear him from above.

“Oh, sorry, sorry! I just saw you walking by and wanted to tell you we’re thinking of booking the volleyball court this afternoon, at around five. Can you make it?”

Akaashi purses his lips in thought. Then, “I believe so, yes.”

Bokuto hoots happily. “Awesome, Akaashi! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

Akaashi tilts his head to the side, like he’s still not sure about the whole thing. “If you say so. I’ll see you later then, Bokuto-san.”

“Later, Akaashi!” Bokuto waves him goodbye as he hurries back to whatever task Bokuto had pulled him away from. It’s clear in the way he speaks and in the fact that Bokuto can’t lie to save his life, but he really _is_ pretty excited to play with someone entirely new.

“Aw, wouldn’t you make for a cute little Juliet,” Kuroo speaks up from behind him with a cheshire cat grin, leaning against the window frame, startling Bokuto out of his thoughts. “A sweet Rapunzel, if you’d prefer.”

Bokuto shoves him lightly as he walks past him on his way inside. “Seriously, don’t you have better things to do than following me around all day making mildly disconcerting comments?”

“I do, but Kenma is showering right now.”

“Tetsu-chan!” Oikawa yells from the kitchen, accompanied by a cackle from Iwaizumi. “Don’t be nasty!”

—

They go for a hike along the coast that day, the trails pleasantly devoid of people but the humid heat making their clothes stick to their bodies not quite so. By the time they make it back, mid-afternoon, they’re dying for a dip in the ocean and that’s where they stay almost until the clock strikes five. By the time they leave the beach and start the ten minute walk back to the resort, Bokuto is visibly buzzing with enthusiasm.

Akaashi is already waiting for them at the main gates, out of his staff uniform, wearing what looks like swim shorts and a faded black band shirt. He explains he needs to enter as their guest because he’s not allowed to abuse his staff privileges to enter the resort outside of his shift hours, and so they enter all together and head to the outdoor volleyball court, thankfully hidden in the shade of the nearest building at that time of the day.

They warm up and split into two teams of three: Bokuto, Akaashi and Kuroo versus Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Kenma. Oikawa lets Kenma take the role of setter for their team, claiming to be looking forward to hitting better spikes than Iwaizumi, which earns him a kick in the rear from said man.

“I’m serious when I say I’m shamefully out of practice,” Akaashi says distractedly, spinning the volleyball on his hands.

“That’s okay, Akaashi! I intend to make good on my promise from earlier this morning! We got this,” Bokuto reassures him with a smile.

Akaashi nods, “I’ll do my best.”

“D’ya wanna try before we start?”

“That might be good, yes.”

“Oi, Kuroo, make yourself useful.” Bokuto beckons him over from where he’s doing a short warm-up routine and Akaashi hands him the ball. “Throw the ball for Akaashi, will ya?”

“Aye,” Kuroo agrees.

He throws the ball in the air and Akaashi positions himself to receive it, then tosses it to where Bokuto will spike. Bokuto jumps and his hand easily hits the ball with a satisfying smack, slamming it onto the floor on the other side of the court.

“Akaashi! This your _out of practice_? That was insanely good!” Bokuto turns to Akaashi as soon as he lands, incredulous.

“I really don’t—” Akaashi starts, but as soon as he opens his mouth, Bokuto senses he’s about to downgrade his skills. He’s not having it.

“Hah!” He cries out, shoving his pointer finger in Akaashi’s face. “None of that! If a national-level player tells you your tosses are great, you have no choice but to believe it!” Then he shoves his thumb against his chest, pointing to himself, “And I’m telling you right now, Akaashi, your toss was great! Do it again!”

Akaashi looks a little taken aback by the sudden outburst, remaining speechless for a few seconds, but it seems to be enough to get him to switch gears. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. One more time, please.”

Bokuto beams, satisfied, and hits the next toss into a particularly sharp line shot, even harder than before. It’s Akaashi who reacts first this time around.

“Your form is unbelievable. Such incredible power,” Akaashi murmurs, staring at the place where the ball had loudly hit the floor. Despite his aloof expression, there’s a light tint of pink on his cheeks and a eerie glint in his eyes. Bokuto can only hope to be the cause of it. “I’ve never had anyone hit my tosses like that,” he comments to no one in particular but Bokuto hears him loud and clear. The words are enough to send his adrenaline levels through the roof.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Kuroo throws at him, then turns to Akaashi. “Akaashi, if you keep openly praising him like that he might just go and win the next Olympics. Tread carefully.”

Bokuto is about to tell Kuroo to shut up when Akaashi turns to him instead. “I really do think my tosses could improve, though. I’ll do better next time, Bokuto-san.”

“So diligent, Akaashi!” Bokuto claps once, eager to get started, “Alright, let’s do this!”

The game starts and Akaashi stays true to his word, his tosses improving with each point they score, tweaking them slightly each time to better match up with Bokuto’s movements and timing, even going as far as experimenting with different tempos. Bokuto is ecstatic with Akaashi’s dutiful commitment to his tosses that makes them work quite harmoniously for two people who had never played together before. That alone speaks volumes of Akaashi’s potential as a setter.

They end it at four sets, only because it’s still too damn hot outside at such a late hour, even in the shade. Akaashi collapses on the floor, breathing heavily, hair and clothes clinging to his lithe frame, drenched in sweat. The light pink he’d had on his cheeks has now spread to his ears and down his neck. Kenma is in much the same state as him, collapsed on the floor. He doesn’t play much volleyball these days either. Iwaizumi’s shirt had vanished two sets ago and Kuroo has walked off the court to dump a whole bottle of water over himself. Only Bokuto and Oikawa look somewhat put together, which is to be expected of two pro volleyball players.

Bokuto comes to crouch next to Akaashi. “Hey hey, that was so much fun! You had fun, right right?” He asks, still buzzing with excitement from the game.

Akaashi looks up at him, blinking lazily, “Yes, Bokuto-san. That was a lot of fun.”

Bokuto shoots him a blinding grin. “Your tosses really are incredible, Akaashi! I’m sure you would’ve given Oikawa a run for his money back in senior high.”

“Kou-chan! Leave my name out of it,” Oikawa yaps from the other side of the court, throwing an empty water bottle in his direction but missing entirely.

Bokuto continues, unbothered, “Speaking of senior high, if you’re from Tokyo then we must have played volleyball at around the same time—you’re not much younger than me, right? What team did you play for? We might have been in the same tournaments, too! Maybe even played against each other?!” He rattles off the questions in a crescendo, finishing the last one off with a gasp, incredulous at the possibility that their paths might have crossed before—even more so at the thought that he could’ve played against someone like Akaashi and not noticed.

Akaashi takes a deep breath before rising to his feet. “Ah, I didn’t attend high school in Japan at all,” Akaashi clarifies. He goes to fetch a towel to dry himself off and Bokuto follows. That answer does certainly come as a surprise.

“How come?”

“My father is a diplomat. He lived in South Korea for a handful of years when I was younger, and I decided to move in with him and do high school there. So that’s where I played volleyball.”

“Woah, three years in Korea at such a young age! That’s so cool, Akaashi!”

Akaashi huffs a laugh, unsure of what to say to that. “I guess. What high school did you attend?”

“Fukurodani Academy!”

“Oh?” Akaashi looks up at that, surprised. “I got a scholarship for that school right after I decided to move abroad,” he comments, and Bokuto screeches.

“What!! You’re telling me we could’ve played in the same team!” He falls to his knees and then lets himself collapse to the floor entirely with total abandonment, looking up at Akaashi. “You could’ve been my setter? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid I’m totally serious,” Akaashi says, confused—and mildly amused—at Bokuto’s sudden dramatics. Bokuto looks up to the sky, contemplating what his time in Fukurodani might’ve been like with Akaashi as his teammate. Akaashi doesn’t let him dwell on it for long, though, lightly kicking his foot to bring him out of his sullen reverie and peeking his head into Bokuto’s field of vision, “Hey, I’m here now, am I not?”

Bokuto processes the information. He does has a point. He springs to his feet again, all thoughts of _could have beens_ gone as soon as they came. “That’s right! And you were great, thanks for playing with us! Let’s do it again!”

“Thank you for having me,” Akaashi replies.

Bokuto feels the burn of at least two pairs of eyes watching their exchange from afar, but he’ll deal with that later. Their attention soon shifts to Iwaizumi anyway, who suggests they all go for a swim in the pool.

Kenma lifts his head in interest. “I’ll go with you, Hajime,” he says, raising an arm so Iwaizumi can pull him to his feet.

“Yo, whoever does the coolest jump from the highest diving platform over there gets to shower first when we get home _and_ gets first choice on the grilled meat we’re having for dinner,” Kuroo pipes up, pointing in the direction of the three diving platforms stationed at a sectioned-off corner of the pool.

“Hah, challenge accepted!” Oikawa and Iwaizumi say in scary unison, and that’s enough to have all of them rushing to the pool, swimming towards the platforms.

Once they get closer, however, Bokuto hesitates for a moment when he realizes just how tall they really are. “Uhm, I’ve never jumped from one of these before,” he comments under his breath, but Akaashi, who is just behind him, hears him.

“I’ve never jumped from this one either. Should we give it a try anyway?”

Bokuto agrees, not even entertaining the thought of sitting it out, and they both climb out of the pool, watching from below as Kuroo runs up on the platform and does a cannonball, the crash echoing around the area and the water splashing—admittedly—quite high.

“That’s what you call a cool jump? That’s risible. Watch and learn, Tetsu-chan!” Oikawa calls from the top of the platform where Iwaizumi stands next to him.

They back away from the edge and run up into a combined jump, each of them jumping to opposite sides of the platform with their arms spread out like two fallen angels. It looks like they’re going to belly flop until the very last second, when they tuck and land safely in a curled up position.

“Woah, that was so cool!” Bokuto whoops, making his way to the stairs. Akaashi follows him while Kenma chooses to stay seated at the edge of the pool instead. “Is there a time when you’re never not in synch?”

“Not really, no,” Oikawa states happily, swimming away towards the edge of the pool. Iwaizumi looks quite pleased with himself too.

Bokuto makes it to the top of the tallest platform and goes to look over the edge, only to unconsciously hold on to the railing with a surprised squawk. “Woo, this is even higher than it looks from below!”

Kuroo guffaws.

“This fool can reach over three meters in the air and now he’s scared of a five meter jump.” Iwaizumi laughs. “Oi, Bokuto, did you suddenly remember you’re scared of heights?”

“Shut up! It just looks lower from afar, that’s all.”

 _But what if I bellyflop?_ , he thinks as he says that, and startles when Akaashi speaks up next to him, having almost forgotten he was up there with him too.

“Bokuto-san, if you’ve never jumped from this high before then I’d say to just do a straight jump. It can be dangerous if you land wrong from this height.”

“But what if I, like, accidentally bend over and land face first!”

Akaashi walks over to the edge of the platform and looks down, analyzing the height of the drop. Then he shamelessly looks Bokuto up and down, like he’s analyzing _him_ instead. Bokuto feels blood rush to his ears.

“I’m sure your core strength will keep you in check. Just keep yourself as straight as possible and bring your arms close to your body before you land,” he says, positioning himself for his own jump. “Other than that, just let go. You’ll be okay.”

Then, without another word, Akaashi swiftly turns his back to the pool, bends his knees and launches himself into an unfairly graceful backflip, landing perfectly, feet-first. Bokuto’s heart lurches up into his throat upon seeing him jumping so suddenly, a mix of wonder and absolute terror written on his face.

“Akaashi!” He yells, still clinging to the platform railing, when Akaashi resurfaces to the others’ cheers from the sidelines. “You lied to me! You told me you’d never done this before!”

“I said I had never jumped from this platform in particular before,” Akaashi explains, and upon recalling Akaashi’s exact words, Bokuto can’t argue against that. However, he thinks the wording might’ve been intentionally misleading, as Akaashi submerges half of his face in the water and looks up at him with mischief in his eyes. Bokuto can’t tell for sure, but he might be grinning.

He huffs in frustration at having been so mercilessly played by Akaashi and walks closer to the edge again, feeling pathetic up there, all alone. He steels himself for a few seconds, pointedly ignoring Kuroo who’s yelling at him to do a flip.

“Bokuto-san, I’ll toss to you however much you’d like tomorrow,” Akaashi offers, and that certainly grabs Bokuto’s attention.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kenma warns Akaashi.

“Hah, now you’ve done it, Akaashi. He’s gonna jump and you’re gonna be stuck in eternal spiking practice hell,” Kuroo laughs.

Bokuto closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them again, he jumps.

It really isn’t that hard. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach but it’s gone as soon as he lands in the water. He resurfaces with a victorious hoot.

“Congratulations Bo, you’ve just earned yourself the award for lamest jump,” Kuroo taunts him.

Bokuto swims up to the edge of the pool and hauls himself up .“Shut the hell up. It’s not like a cannonball is the coolest thing in the universe either!”

“Certainly cooler than whatever that was. Now, I’d say Akaashi’s delivery was pretty on point but he’s out of the run because he’s not part of the household, so I will kindly relinquish victory to you two synchronized fuckers,” Kuroo says, turning to Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Oikawa snickers and throws a peace sign, which Iwaizumi promptly slaps away. 

Winners and losers decided, they walk back to their things and dry off, lost in casual conversation. The sun has set but the night is still warm and the pool lights cast everything around them in a pretty, shimmering blue light. And as the conversation veers into Tokyo-related affairs, curiosity suddenly strikes Bokuto.

“Say, Akaashi, do you work here all summer? All year? Is this what you do?”

“No, this isn’t my actual job. I’m finishing up university back in Tokyo and only work here for about a handful of weeks during the summer. I’ve been doing it for a few years now.”

“Oh, I see! Doesn’t it get boring spending your summers here, though?” Bokuto asks, tilting his head. “Do they let you use the pool at least?”

Akaashi’s lips curve into a barely-there smile. “I’m afraid I’m not allowed to use the pool during my shifts, Bokuto-san.”

“What?! That seriously hurts my soul, Akaashi! So you just sit around in this heat the whole day, watching your youth passing you by?”

“I only work part-time so I still have most of the day to myself. I spend my summers here so I can look after my grandmother and keep her company. There’s plenty of things to do too—I go freediving, hiking, I read a lot, catch up on some university work and see old friends,” he says, nodding towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa as if to illustrate. “Overall, I tend to keep busy. I’m never bored around here.”

Bokuto hums, considering all his summers spent in the city up until now under a slightly different light. “Hey, that’s cool! When you put it like that, summers in Tokyo do sound almost boring in comparison.”

“City boy discovers the wonders of the countryside,” Oikawa laughs.

“Oh! But wait!” Bokuto perks up. “You said you freedive? As in, diving without any gear?”

“That is correct, Bokuto-san.”

“Doesn’t that take a lot of control over your mind and body and like, some crazy lung capacity?”

“A little, yes. I’m not the best freediver by any means but it’s something I enjoy doing.”

“That’s even cooler! Teach me, Akaashi!”

“W—what?” Akaashi stammers, taken aback by the sudden request.

Kenma rolls his eyes before he intervenes. “Koutarou, I don’t think you realize how overwhelming you can be at times. Keiji-kun, don’t feel pressured to do everything he asks of you.”

“That’s right! You don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do!” Bokuto reiterates, like it’s obvious.

“I see. I’ll think about it, then,” Akaashi considers, and that’s good enough for Bokuto.

Then Oikawa pipes up, “Say, Akaashi, do you want to come over for dinner? Iwa-chan bought way too much meat this morning.”

“There’s no such thing as too much meat,” Iwaizumi mutters as he pulls his shirt on.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude too much—” Akaashi starts.

“Nonsense,” Oikawa brushes him off. “Just because we’re staying with friends, it doesn’t mean you’re not welcome. Seriously, you should come over.”

Akaashi considers the offer for a while but ends up accepting. Bokuto lights up at the thought of having Akaashi around for a bit longer, thinking he fits right in the middle of their little group.

—

Dinner passes in a flash of animated laughter, lively conversation and delicious food.

Showers taken, bellies full and just the right amount of alcohol in their system, they now chill outside on the veranda. Kenma and Akaashi linger by the dinner table that has also been set outside, nursing their beers, engaged in a very intense conversation, topic unknown to Bokuto. The rest of them have transitioned over to the cushioned armchairs at the opposite side of the long balcony.

At some point, Kenma and Akaashi’s conversation must switch to a different topic, because Bokuto hears his and Oikawa’s names being mentioned. He blocks out Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Kuroo’s chatter in favour of listening in on whatever the other two are talking about, and it doesn’t take him long to realize Kenma is talking about their volleyball teams and respective achievements. Whether that was a result of Akaashi asking or Kenma being in the mood to share, Bokuto doesn’t know, but he’s secretly happy that Akaashi is getting an impromptu crash course of his achievements.

“Kenma is a better friend than all of you combined,” Bokuto shoots at the other three, who halt their conversation and look at him like they have no idea what he’s talking about. To his chagrin, though, Kenma must overhear his words, as the next time he speaks, he does it substantially louder to make sure Bokuto hears him loud and clear.

“Koutarou is very cool on the court. However, I think that’s about the extent of it,” he says.

It’s an aimed knife at Bokuto’s heart. Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Kuroo explode with laughter.

“O-oi, Kenma! I can hear you!” Bokuto complains, loudly. Then he whines, “Why is everyone so set on making me look uncool!”

“You do that to yourself,” Kenma states simply.

Kuroo wipes an imaginary tear out of his eye. “I’ve taught him well,” he says.

Bokuto crosses his arms, puffs out his chest and looks off to the side, “Nonsense, I’m the coolest person in this room.”

“You have some nerve saying that while sitting next to Hajime,” Kenma counters, again. Bokuto had walked right into that one.

Both Oikawa and Kuroo are lost in giggles, and Iwaizumi slings an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders with a smile, jostling Bokuto like he’s telling him to pay them no mind. Bokuto wants to open his mouth to retort, but he knows Kenma is right. It is known that Iwaizumi has always been the coolest.

“You’re cooler than all of us combined on a volleyball court, Bokuto. Don’t worry,” Iwaizumi tells him. That does lift Bokuto’s spirits.

When Bokuto chances a look at Akaashi, he finds him already looking back at him from where he’s quietly watching them bicker back and forth, leaning with his cheek against his hand. His amused smile reaches his sleepy eyes and Bokuto figures that maybe no harm was done.

— 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two coming in just a couple of days, as soon as i'm done rewriting one (1) scene lmao  
>   
> until then, here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/yoongoboongi) ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, part two!
> 
> two important things for this chapter before you start:  
> 1\. at some point, akaashi refers to his grandma as her being an "ama". Ama are japanese female divers who dive in apnea for seafood, abalone, pearls, etc, with almost no equipment. it's a millennial tradition, but not many people do it these days so it's slowly dying down.  
> 2\. all i know about freediving is what some hawaiian dude taught me in croatia a handful of years ago. sorry if anything is off ._.
> 
> alright, hope you enjoy the rest of this~

— Wednesday —

“I see you’re out of the fight already?” Akaashi says and Bokuto startles, not having expected him to materialize out of thin air like a granted wish.

It’s just a little over five in the afternoon. They’ve spent most of their day fooling around at the beach, save from Akaashi who claimed he had to take his grandmother to the hospital for a routine check-up in the morning and had then worked the afternoon shift at the resort. He’d agreed to meet them at the beach at the end of the day, however, and, true to his word, here he now stands next to Bokuto, waves lapping at their feet.

“Akaashi! You’re here!” Bokuto cheers, and resists the strange urge to greet him by squeezing his shoulder or something equally physical.

“May I ask what prompted this?” Akaashi asks, looking at the other four men playing in the shallow water with no little amount of skepticism.

They’re chicken fighting, like the mature group of young men they are not.

Oikawa is sitting comfortably atop Iwaizumi’s shoulders, while Kenma is _clearly_ trying to look like he’d prefer to be anywhere else but on top of Kuroo’s shoulders playing the stupid game, but is in fact having trouble keeping his amusement at bay. How Kuroo had even convinced him to play in the first place is a mystery Bokuto will never be able to unveil. Kuroo himself, on the other hand, looks like he’s having the time of his life, his boisterous laughter mixing in with Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s.

“Oikawa claimed he and Iwaizumi were unbeatable at this game. Kuroo and I have sworn to bring them down, but we haven’t been very successful so far.” Bokuto crosses his arms, watching Kenma and Kuroo struggling pitifully against the other two. Then he gasps, a lightbulb going off in his head, “Akaashi! Fight with me—”

“Absolutely not,” is Akaashi’s deadpan response.

Bokuto takes a sharp intake of breath, ready to protest and talk him into it, but then he remembers they’ve literally known each other for a little less than three days. Akaashi might not be comfortable with the idea of climbing onto the shoulders of someone who he hasn’t known for very long. He snaps his mouth closed instead and keeps his eyes forward, a heavy weight sinking in his chest at the thought of having made Akaashi feel uneasy.

“Uhm, sorry. I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he says, sheepishly.

Akaashi turns his head sharply at him, confusion written on his face.

“You didn’t—” Akaashi starts, then runs across his face after seeing Bokuto’s crestfallen expression. “It wasn’t that, Bokuto-san. It’s just—” He looks around them, as if searching for something or someone. Then, in a quiet voice, almost embarrassed, “It’s just that I know a lot of people around here.”

Understanding dawns on Bokuto and he feels light as a feather, happy to have his concerns proved wrong. He lets out a cackle, loud. “Hah, Akaashi! You’re trying to keep your cool persona intact, is that it? I get it, I get it.” Akaashi is hiding his face in his hand, embarrassed by his own words but struggling to hide his amusement at Bokuto’s teasing. Bokuto continues, laughter in his voice, “I’m sorry to say, though, but that might’ve been ruined from the very first second you were seen with us. My condolences.”

“I see,” Akaashi says, lifting his face out of his hand, trying to keep his serious composure. They watch as Kuroo topples over in the water and Kenma goes down together with him while Oikawa cheers happily, still undefeated. At the sorry scene developing in front of them, Akaashi physically steels himself and speaks up, “I’ll play it. Once. But we must win.”

Bokuto hoots with surprise, then with joy. “You’re the best, Akaashi!” He wastes no time getting in the water with Akaashi following close behind, hurrying closer to the others, water up to their ribs. “Akaashi is fighting with me this time! Prepare to die, Oikawa!”

Oikawa crosses his arms and gives them his best sneer. “So you’ve decided to join the fun. I’m sorry to say, but you have come to lose.”

Akaashi easily climbs onto Bokuto’s shoulders when he lowers himself, and Bokuto _pointedly_ chooses not to think about Akaashi’s thighs wrapping around his shoulders and neck. Such thoughts are unnecessary to achieve their certain victory.

Oikawa gives them a once-over and laughs mischievously, voice honey-sweet, “My sweet Akaashi, I see you’re blissfully unaware of Bokuto’s greatest weakness.”

That gives Bokuto pause. Weakness?

Akaashi leans forward and peers down at Bokuto. “Bokuto-san. Is there anything you want to tell me before we start this?”

“What? No! He’s just teasing, I have no such thing!”

Akaashi studies him for a second. “I don’t know why I’m about to do this, but I’ll trust you,” is all he says, leaning back into a more comfortable stance, and that seems to be enough to get them started.

Bokuto walks forward and Iwaizumi meets him halfway after a _go, iwa-chan_ from Oikawa. Akaashi engages with Oikawa and Bokuto braces himself as best as he can to keep his balance and not let Akaashi fall from his shoulders, but barely five seconds in, the fight is over before he even fully registers what is happening.

A pair of hands—Iwaizumi’s—come to dig into his sides, causing Bokuto to violently jerk away with a screech. In his attempt to get Iwaizumi’s hands away from him, Bokuto moves around too much, water hindering his movements, and both him and Akaashi end up falling over, losing the fight before it really even began.

“Hey! That’s foul play!” Bokuto yells as soon as untangles himself from Akaashi’s legs and resurfaces from underwater. He’s always been ticklish and Iwaizumi and Oikawa are, unfortunately, no strangers to that fact and not afraid to use it against him everytime they’re able to.

Oikawa ignores him, happily throwing two peace signs high in the air, “Aha! Oikawa Tooru and his mighty steed remain—” He doesn’t get to finish his celebration, however, as Iwaizumi grabs hold of his ankles and sends him toppling over backwards. Oikawa goes down with a shriek.

“Can’t believe I still play along with his dirty tricks,” Iwaizumi grumbles.

“Ah, but that’s love~” Kuroo pipes up from where he’s been laughing at them next to Kenma, a safe distance away from the battlefield.

Oikawa surfaces with a whine directed at Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi tackles him back into the water. Perhaps Oikawa’s final boss had been Iwaizumi all along.

Akaashi, meanwhile, still hasn’t fully emerged from the water, only his eyes and the top of his head peeking out, and he’s _seething_. At Bokuto. Directly.

“Akaashi, I’m sorry!” Bokuto yells, runs his hands down his face and flops over in the water dramatically.

Akaashi keeps the glare for a while longer, probably just to watch Bokuto squirm under it, then flicks some water at him as Bokuto keeps apologizing over and over again, the amusement in his eyes betraying his annoyed act. Bokuto splashes him back and he knows he’s forgiven.

—

They play volleyball for while on the net installed just a bit further up the beach after drying off, and end up gathering a small crowd of little kids who cheer along with Bokuto whenever he scores a point. Akaashi keeps his promise from the previous day and tosses to Bokuto as much as he asks of him, although they do get tired faster playing at the beach as the sand doesn’t quite give them the support they’re used to. By the time they call it quits, they’re covered in sand and dash to the ocean for one last swim right as the sun begins to dip in the horizon.

Bokuto is floating in the water, watching the colour of the sky changing with the sunset, when Akaashi approaches him, his head popping up in Bokuto’s field of vision for the second time that week like he’d materialized straight out of Bokuto’s thoughts, pretty against the pink backdrop.

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto rises up to his feet and flicks some excess water from his hair. “What is it, Akaashi?”

Akaashi looks off to the side, seems to hesitate for a second, but then speaks. “I’m going diving tomorrow afternoon. The tide will be good. You can come with me if you’d like.”

Bokuto gapes, genuinely caught off guard by the offer. He hadn’t forgotten about it, but he’d figured maybe Akaashi wouldn’t want to do it with him since he never mentioned again. “Hell yeah! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Bokuto would call him out on it if he wasn’t Akaashi.

“Everything is fun with you,” Akaashi comments, sarcastically.

“That’s right!”

“Just—don’t set your expectations too high. You can’t magically dive 20 meters deep on your first try. Let’s call it advanced snorkeling, or something like that,” Akaashi adds.

“Good enough for me! I can’t wait!”

“Right. Just make sure you bring snorkeling gear, then. I’ll come meet you guys here at the beach, at around four in the afternoon.”

Bokuto agrees with a brilliant smile, and they walk together back to their things, where everyone else is already drying off and getting dressed.

  
  
  


— Thursday —

“What time is it?” Bokuto asks to no one in particular, lying on his back in the sand like a beached starfish.

“Koutarou, it’s the third time you’re asking that in the space of 40 minutes,” Kenma deadpans.

“It’s only been 40 minutes?!”

Kuroo sighs, but when he speaks there’s no real annoyance behind it. “The least you could do was to go grab your phone and leave us poor, innocent people out of whatever it is you’re going through.”

“And stop nagging you? Never,” he shoots a grin up at Kuroo, who just rolls his eyes at him. “Also I’m not going through anything! I just like it when Akaashi is around, that’s all. Don’t you all, as well?”

“We do, but certainly not as much as you,” Oikawa replies.

“Hello, everyone.”

That’s Akaashi’s voice. Bokuto’s eyes widen and he startles upright with a surprised squawk.

“Akaashi! You’ve arrived!” He states quite unnecessarily, as Akaashi is, indeed, standing there, dropping his bag next to their stuff and searching for his towel inside it. The others all greet him back.

The question—well, questions, really—is how _long_ had he been there, how much had he heard, and why hadn’t these bastards he calls friends let him know Akaashi was _right there_. They’re three questions that must be addressed when Akaashi isn’t within earshot, however, so Bokuto settles for giving them the most murderous glare he can muster while Akaashi isn’t looking. Oikawa is laughing silently against his arm, while Kuroo has laid on his belly, head turned the other way, but Bokuto knows he’s laughing at him as well.

“Bokuto-san. Hello,” Akaashi greets him, Bokuto’s sudden exclamation catching his attention.

“All done with work, Akaashi?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Oh, I was done with it before lunchtime. I’ve just been helping my grandma around in her garden until now. You’ve been here all day?”

“Nah, we only arrived about an hour ago,” Iwaizumi replies. “Too hot to be anywhere else, anyway.”

“Agreed.” Akaashi grabs the hem of his shirt to pull it off and Bokuto pointedly looks away. “I’ll be right back,” he says, heading into the sea to freshen up.

“You guys are assholes, you know that, right?” Bokuto pipes up once Akaashi is a safe distance away.

Oikawa coos and Bokuto feels him moving around behind him until his arms come to wrap around Bokuto’s neck and shoulders from behind. Bokuto tolerates the affection- _cum_ -apology, albeit with a pout.

“Aw, Kou-chan. You love us. But don’t worry, I don’t think he heard much.” Somehow, that’s enough to settle Bokuto’s worries. “Although, for what it’s worth, I think he’s into you too. He’s taking you freediving! So cute!”

Bokuto snorts and physically shrugs him off of his shoulders, not feeling like pondering such things at the moment. Oikawa leaves him with a playful pinch to the ear, considering himself forgiven.

Akaashi makes it back from the ocean after a minute and comes to stand next to Bokuto, who is still sitting on the same spot in the sand he was in when Akaashi first arrived, a Bokuto-shaped form imprinted on the sand behind him.

“The tide is good. Great, actually,” Akaashi comments, observing the coast that spreads out in front of them. “Shall we go, Bokuto-san? That is, if you still want to come with.”

Bokuto is on his feet in the blink of an eye. “Definitely! Let’s go, Akaashi!”

“Cool, go grab your stuff, then.”

While Bokuto is searching through his backpack for his snorkeling set, Akaashi notices something. “Are these yours?” he asks, pointing at the pair of two-person kayaks next to them that had escaped his notice up until now.

“Yup, we rented them until the end of the day,” Kuroo replies.

Akaashi seems to mull over a thought. Then, “Would you mind if I took one of them with Bokuto-san?”

“Please do. I’ve had my fair share of paddling for the day,” Kenma says, lightly rubbing his arms and shoulders as if to emphasize his point. They hadn’t even paddled for that long, half an hour maybe, but it really does take its toll on unpractised arms after a while.

“We’ll take one then. Thank you.”

“Oh, Akaashi! Where are we going?” Bokuto is hovering excitedly behind Akaashi, not unlike an overeager puppy.

“We’re paddling out a bit further away from the beach. If we make it around that bend in the coast, it’ll be nice. Less people and less commotion, so the fish are more abundant. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great! Let’s get to it!”

“I do apologize for not being able to take all of you,” Akaashi says, addressing the rest of them. “I can’t take responsibility for more than one person, I’m afraid.”

Oikawa waves him off. “Don’t be silly, Akaashi. Kou-chan is happier to go with you than all of us four combined,” then he winks. Bokuto narrows his eyes at him.

“I see. I’ll see you later, then.”

“See ya!” Bokuto throws over his shoulder.

They both drag the kayak to the sea and hop onto it, leaving the beach behind as they start paddling away, past the breaking waves and onto more serene waters. They paddle around the gentle curve of the coast like Akaashi had mentioned, and Bokuto marvels at the crystal clear water below them, eager to dive into it. 

He lets Akaashi guide them into a little rocky cove where they climb down from the kayak and safely leave it stationed there. The ocean is calm today, no strong currents, and the water lapping softly at the rocks poses no real threat as they dip back into it, traipsing carefully on the rocky ground until it’s safe to swim.

“I’m not taking you too far from the coast. It gets deep fast around here, we don’t really need to go very far,” Akaashi explains, gesturing at the stretch of ocean in front them, the shade of blue getting progressively darker as it gets deeper. Bokuto assents, then puts his goggles and snorkel on and dives forward to catch up with Akaashi who’s already swimming ahead.

After swimming out and away from the coast for a few meters, they swim parallel to the coast, observing the small fish moving around in schools, diving under the rocks and resurfacing further ahead like they know the ins and outs of this place like no one else. Bokuto often has to resurface and take the snorkel out of his mouth in order to express his amazement out loud and make sure Akaashi is seeing the same things he is. Akaashi doesn’t even take his head out of the water, just throws a thumbs up to acknowledge whatever Bokuto is saying and pokes his shoulder so he puts his snorkel back in and looks down underwater again.

Just like Akaashi had said, they come to a stop in a spot that’s really not too far from where they dropped off their kayak, but still far enough that the rolling waves won’t bother them. Bokuto isn’t sure, but looking down, the bottom must be less than ten meters deep. It may not be much to Akaashi, but it’s certainly deeper than any dive Bokuto has ever done before, if reaching the bottom-most part of a pool can even be considered _diving_.

“Here is good,” Akaashi decides, lifting his goggles up into his forehead so they can communicate better. “You’ve really never done this before?”

Bokuto lifts his goggles up too. “Nope, total newbie here!”

“Okay, well, I’m sorry to say you’re not going very deep today, but there are some basics I can teach you. You see, more than holding your breath for a long time, it’s important to know how to equalize the pressure in your ears as you go down.”

“Makes sense! How do you do that?”

“For beginners, the best way is to pinch your nose and gently blow out until you hear a pop or a click. This is something we do naturally several times a day, it just gets a bit more difficult when we do it underwater. You do it consciously too—when you’re driving up a mountain or when you’re inside a plane taking off, you click your ears to get rid of the slight pressure you feel.”

Bokuto knows the feeling and immediately clicks his ears just to make sure he hasn’t forgotten how to do it. “Oh, yes! I know what you’re talking about. So just do that while pinching my nose?”

“Yes. You can’t breathe through your nose at all.”

Bokuto tries it once, successfully, and really, it seems simple enough. “I think I got it!” He says, excited.

“Alright. It’s a bit more difficult when you’re underwater, so don’t get disheartened if you fail on the first try. Also, remember to come up slowly when you’re resurfacing. Oh, and—” Akaashi says, swimming closer to unhook Bokuto’s snorkel from his goggles. “I’ll be taking this, so it doesn’t get in the way.”

Bokuto shoots him a grin as he put his goggles back on and proclaims, “I’m ready, Akaashi!”

Akaashi puts his own goggles on and they dive together on the count of three. They don’t go very deep, just enough that Bokuto feels the _slightest_ hint of pressure in his ears. Akaashi stays close to him, holding Bokuto steady with one hand on his shoulder. Then he makes the motion of pinching his nose and Bokuto follows his lead, pinching his nose through the plastic layer of the goggles, but it doesn’t quite go as expected. Water makes its way inside the goggles, taking him by surprise when it gets in his eyes and he flails a little. He doesn’t panic, but Akaashi must notice his trouble as Bokuto feels Akaashi’s hold on his forearm while he gently guides them back up.

“Aw man, water got inside this thing and it freaked me out a little, I’m sorry!” Bokuto says after he resurfaces and drains the offending water out.

“That’s okay, it happens sometimes,” Akaashi assures him. “Try again?”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

They dive once more, and Bokuto gives it another try, this time carefully pinching the goggles close to his face so there’s no danger of water getting in. He tries two, three, four times, but the pop doesn’t come and the pressure won’t equalize, so he gestures to Akaashi for them to resurface again.

“It isn’t working, Akaashi,” he whines. “My ears just won’t pop.”

“It could take more than a handful of tries, Bokuto-san. We’ll try until you can make it. Again?”

Bokuto nods, not ready to give up just yet and very grateful for Akaashi’s patience. It takes him a couple more dives to get it right, but when he does, he’s so thrilled he ends up exhaling half of the air in his lungs and having to resurface again before he does anything else.

“I did it! They popped!” He hoots, a million watt smile on his face, albeit a bit squished by the stupid goggles that cover almost half of his face.

“That’s great, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says with a small smile of his own. “Now you can go a little deeper and swim for a while longer.”

“You’re a great teacher, Akaashi!”

“I’ve only taught you the very first thing about freediving, Bokuto-san.”

“Still! I know how to equalize the pressure in my ears underwater now, that’s pretty great! I wanna see you doing it, though. Can you reach the bottom here?”

“Sure.”

“Can you you do it, then? Please, I wanna see!”

“Okay. Just wait here then,” Akaashi says, handing Bokuto’s snorkel back to him. Then he takes a deep breath and dives.

Bokuto rushes to clasp the snorkel against his goggles again and dips his face in the water, watching in wonder as Akaashi slowly descends further and further away from him, until he can touch the bottom. He twists around and waves up at Bokuto, who waves back at him, then takes off swimming like he has a set destination in mind. There’s an opening in the rocks just a few meters ahead of Akaashi and he points it out to Bokuto before he grabs a nearby boulder and dips into the entrance, much to Bokuto’s horror. He makes a distressed noise around the snorkel in his mouth, but soon realizes he trusts Akaashi to not put his life in any real danger, so he just follows him from the surface, catching glimpses of him through the gaps in the tunnel-like formation. Akaashi resurfaces just a few seconds later amidst a school of small, striped fish, as if he’s one of them, and slowly ascends back to the surface to meet Bokuto after letting the boulder sink to the bottom again.

Bokuto rips the snorkel out of his mouth and lifts his goggles, ecstatic. “That was amazing, Akaashi! A bit scary to watch, but amazing nonetheless.”

“Thank you. I’ve dived around here a lot, so I know my way around. No reason to be scared,” Akaashi says, not even panting even after spending close to a minute underwater. “I’ve swum through that tunnel more times than I can count.”

“I wanna learn how to do that too now,” Bokuto muses.

“In time, if you keep practicing, I’m sure you’ll be able to do it too. But safely. This can be a dangerous sport—promise me you’ll always do it safely.”

“Promise! How do you know how to do all of this? Who taught you?”

“My grandma did,” Akaashi explains, and that’s the last thing Bokuto had expected to hear. Akaashi seems to catch his surprise, and he elaborates, “She was an ama her whole life before her health deteriorated, but she taught me when I was still quite young. We would often go freediving together up until a few years ago. Now I just do it with Sugawara-san whenever he’s around.”

“Your grandma was an ama? That’s awesome! Akaashi, I see where you got your cool genes from, now!”

Akaashi shakes his head, slightly amused, which is always a win in Bokuto’s book. “Bokuto-san, please stop saying nonsense and let’s focus on your breathing now.”

“Okay!”

They dive a few more times and Bokuto eventually gets the hang of it but he never really makes it to the bottom. He hovers around the middle section with Akaashi closeby, swimming around each other, chasing fish and looking up at the shimmering surface from below. He needs to resurface a lot more often than Akaashi, but even in spite of his repeated dives, he can tell why Akaashi does this often. It’s quiet and peaceful down there, a different way of looking at the world he doesn’t get to experience all that often, having lived in Tokyo his whole life.

Repeatedly holding his breath for such long amounts of time does tire him out faster than when he’s swimming his usual laps around a pool, though, and they eventually make it back to their kayak. Despite his physical exhaustion, Bokuto is a chatterbox as they paddle back to the beach, asking Akaashi if he ever dives with full gear, how deep he’s ever gone, and all the dozens of other questions that pop into his mind. Akaashi indulges him, ever so patient.

They drag the kayak out of the water when they reach the beach and Akaashi goes for a quick swim to cool off after having paddled a respectable distance. Bokuto comes up to join the others, but Iwaizumi and Oikawa are nowhere to be seen.

“Well, well, well. Look what the tide dragged in,” Kuroo speaks up. “We were beginning to think you had eloped to somewhere far away, never to be seen again.”

Bokuto throws his snorkeling set at him, which Kuroo skillfully catches before it hits him, one-handed.

“Kenma, won’t you make this annoying boyfriend of yours shut up every once in a while?”

“I would if I knew how to,” comes Kenma’s muffled reply from where he’s lying on his towel with a bunched up shirt over his face to shield it from the sun.

“How was it?” Kuroo asks, dropping the teasing tone.

“Really fun! We saw a fish this big!” Bokuto illustrates by spreading his arms apart. “I totally messed it up on my first few tries but Akaashi was very patient,” Bokuto notes.

“He does seem to have the patience of a saint when it comes to you. I wonder why.”

Bokuto kicks sand at Kuroo’s legs this time and chooses to change the conversation topic.

“Where did those two go off to, anyway?” Bokuto asks, referring to Iwaizumi and Oikawa. “If any two of us were to elope, I think it’d be them.”

“Indeed, they have eloped to the very opposite side of the beach, to that little shack over there,” Kuroo says, gesturing at the shack they were at earlier where they’d rented the kayaks. “Iwaizumi wanted to check out the banana boats.”

“The banana boats?!”

“The banana boats.”

“Man, I wanna ride those too,” Bokuto whines. “They went all by themselves? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Chill, they just went to check out prices and timings and whatnot. They’ll be back to report on their findings. I’m sitting it out, though, and so is Kenma. You might wanna recruit your divine ocean deity instead,” Kuroo says, nudging his chin towards the water’s edge.

Bokuto follows the motion, turns around, and is greeted with the sight of Akaashi emerging from the sea, lithe figure dripping wet, oblivious to their gawking as he runs his hands through his soaked hair. Divine is right—Kuroo’s word choice hadn’t been wrong, Bokuto thinks.

But as much as he wants to, he’s not about to stand there just staring, so he calls out Akaashi’s name and runs down to meet him halfway, walking the rest of the way back with him. “Akaashi! I think Iwaizumi and Oikawa are thinking about riding the banana boat. Wanna come?”

“Oh? Is that where they’ve gone to?” Akaashi asks. “I have a friend who works there, but I don’t know if he’s around. I could maybe drop by to check if he’s there.”

“I’ll go with you!” Bokuto proclaims, and they walk together to their destination after Akaashi makes a quick grab for his towel. Iwaizumi and Oikawa are already there when they arrive, absorbed in friendly conversation with a young man around their age who greets Akaashi when he notices them approaching. Bokuto assumes that’s the friend Akaashi had mentioned.

“Hey, Akaashi,” he says with a friendly smile.

“Sawamura-san, hello. I didn’t know you were in town already,” Akaashi greets back.

“Oh, I arrived two days ago. Still haven’t had much time to do my usual rounds.”

“I see. Please do inform Sugawara-san of that fact. He’s asked for you already.”

Those words seem to have some kind of impact on the man, as he brings a hand to stroke the back of his neck.

“O-oh. He has?”

“Yes. More than once, in fact,” Akaashi says, keeping his usual cool expression, though his tone denotes a small jab.

“I see.” He’s visibly flustered, and Bokuto wonders if he, himself, has ever looked like that while talking to Akaashi. “Thanks, Akaashi. I’ll be sure to do that. What brings you here, anyway?”

“It seems like I have some people very interested in riding the banana boat,” Akaashi replies, herding Bokuto by the arm towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa, making it obvious he’s referring to the three of them.

“Oh, you’re with them too, then?”

“Yup,” Oikawa confirms.

“Okay so, that’s Iwaizumi, Oikawa and…?” He turns towards Bokuto, expecting an introduction.

“Bokuto! Bokuto Koutarou, nice to meet you!” Bokuto introduces himself.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Sawamura Daichi. Alright, so that’s the three of you, plus Akaashi? You’re coming too?”

Akaashi seems to consider his answer at first, side-eyeing Bokuto, who may or may be not be looking at Akaashi with _please come please come please come it’ll be fun_ written all over his face.

“Sure. I’ll join them,” Akaashi concedes, and Bokuto lets out a whoop of joy in his head.

Daichi chuckles, and addresses the rest of them, “Should I sign you up on the next available slot, then? Or should we wait until closing time?”

“Why closing time?” Oikawa asks, confused.

“I think you’ll find the experience a lot more enjoyable with Sawamura-san driving us around,” Akaashi explains with a small, suggestive grin.

“It’s really up to you, guys,” Daichi continues. “My coworker is the one driving right now, and I won’t be able to switch with him until just before we close. I’ll stay out with you for a while longer too, if you want.”

“Sounds fun!” Bokuto hollers without giving it a second thought, thrilled.

“Sure, it’s not like we’re in a hurry anyway,” Iwaizumi considers. “We’ll be back soon, then. Thank you, Sawamura!”

They make their way out of the beach shack after paying and back to their place where Kuroo and Kenma await them. The sun had begun its descent towards the horizon a while ago so they don’t have to idle around for much longer until it’s closing time and they’re marching to the opposite side of the beach where the jet ski and the banana boat are stationed.

Daichi meets them a short while later, carrying bright yellow life jackets for all of them and after a few words of guidance and instructions, they get in the water and climb onto the banana boat while Daichi hops on the jet ski. Oikawa claims the front seat with Iwaizumi behind him, followed by Bokuto, and Akaashi who takes the second to last seat, the last one remaining empty.

It’s a day full of firsts for Bokuto, as he’s also never tried to ride one of these things before, but he kind of knows what to expect from watching several other groups being thrown around over the past week. He holds onto the handles and bounces excitedly on the inflatable surface.

“Whoever is thrown off the boat the most times gets to pay us all a round tonight,” Oikawa declares loudly.

Iwaizumi chuckles darkly, “You’re on, Oikawa.”

“Hell yeah!” Bokuto hoots. “Go all out on us, Sawamura! Don’t hold back!”

Daichi barks a laugh back at them, revving the engine of the jet ski.

“Everyone ready?” He asks.

They all yell out their confirmations, ready to go, and Daichi begins to tow them out away from the beach and onto open, deeper waters.

“I’ll catch ya if you fall, Akaashi! You can hold on to me!” Bokuto boldly proclaims, absolutely convinced that if he holds on tightly enough with both his hands and legs, he won’t be knocked down by something as silly as _inertia_ and _gravity_.

“That’s against the safety rules, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replies, voice so close to Bokuto he straightens his back almost on instinct. “Also, you’ll fall if you so much as take one hand off the handles at the wrong moment, so I’d really advise against it.”

Bokuto’s reply is cut off as Daichi accelerates and the banana boat lurches forward, spraying water against their faces. It starts slow, almost like he’s luring them into a false sense of security, a few bumps here and there that make them cheer, along with a couple of manageable turns, but all of them manage to stay on the boat.

_This isn’t so bad_ , Bokuto thinks.

Wrong.

As soon as he finishes that thought, Daichi kicks it up several notches and their boat goes flying over a wave. They cry out in surprise, holding on but just barely, and Daichi gives them no time to regain their composure as he sends the boat violently skidding sideways. Oikawa is the first one to go down with a muffled yelp, the others following shortly with matching squawks. They’re flung off the boat like they weight nothing more than a feather, and the feeling is exhilarating.

They resurface quickly, their life vests keeping them afloat, and amidst lively laughter, Iwaizumi wastes no time in teasing Oikawa for being the first one to have fallen.

“You’ll catch me if I fall, huh?” Akaashi doesn’t seem keen on giving Bokuto a break, either.

“C’mon, that one was impossible! It caught me completely off guard too!”

“That’s on you,” Akaashi counters, swimming closer to Bokuto and Iwaizumi so it’s easier for Daichi to pick them up. “Although that was a particularly difficult one.”

“I won’t fall anymore!” Bokuto decides.

“I won’t either,” Akaashi returns, a playful challenge in his voice.

Bokuto does, indeed, fall again, over and over. To his chagrin, however, Akaashi manages to hold on a lot more often than he does, sitting pretty and unfazed each time Bokuto wiggles around and struggles to climb up onto the boat again. When Bokuto questions what kind of witchcraft is keeping him tied to the boat, he simply answers he’s done this a lot, as if that explains how he somehow manages to defy the laws of physics.

In the end, it’s Oikawa who goes down the most, much to Iwaizumi’s absolute delight, while Iwaizumi and Akaashi end close to a tie, the picture-perfect embodiment of Cool. It’s tiring, but so much fun, and they’re rambunctiously loud when Daichi brings them back to the beach. They return after profusely thanking Daichi.

“Have fun?” Kuroo asks, sitting quietly next to a catnapping Kenma who stirs awake when they return.

“It’s so much fun, you gotta come next time!” Bokuto says.

Iwaizumi adds, “And the best part is that Oikawa now owes us all a round of drinks tonight, after dinner.”

“Iwa-chan, can you quit looking so smug already? I had a lot more water being splashed in my face than you did!”

“Oh? That’s great news, indeed,” Kuroo says, grinning.

“Speaking of dinner!” Bokuto says. “I’m kinda starving, should we head home and then go out?”

“Sure. What are you all in the mood for?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Seafood!” Oikawa declares, and it seems to be unanimous.

“Akaashi! You coming with us, right?” Bokuto pipes up, pulling his shirt on.

“Sure. I just need to go home and wash up.”

Bokuto shoots him a grin in approval.

—

There’s something really comforting about going home after a long day at the beach and washing all the sand, salt and sunscreen off your skin and hair, then pulling on fresh clothes, Bokuto thinks. The prospect of seafood for dinner doesn’t hurt either, so they’re all in high spirits when they meet back up with Akaashi an hour later, who seems to radiate the same beach afterglow as them, dressed in a white button down and black jeans.

It’s the first time Bokuto is seeing him dressed in clothes that are neither his resort uniform nor his casual beachwear. He looks good, yes, but that doesn’t come as a surprise to Bokuto anymore. Akaashi is beautiful in any shape or form. What does come as a surprise is the physical manifestation of what he can only identify as _longing_ in the shape of a light tug in his chest, like a tightening knot. It’s a pleasant, exciting feeling, made better when Akaashi smiles softly at him when he greets them, and it all makes Bokuto smile extra wide. He feels good.

They walk together to the restaurant, chatting animatedly as if it’s the first time they’re seeing each other in months and not like they haven’t been hanging out together for almost a week now. Seafood is eaten and alcohol is drunk until their bellies are full and their cheeks are pinker than they were when they left the beach. Then they meander around the sleepy coastal town without a set destination, lost in laughter and lighthearted glee until they end up at the beach again.

They fall heavily onto the sand, not caring if it gets into their shoes or inside their shirts. The dark expanse of the night sky is infinite and starless, impossible to tell where the sea ends and the sky begins, the breeze is nice and cool against their heated cheeks and the breaking waves in the distance are like a gentle background melody. Bokuto feels like this is the most carefree they’ve all been in a while, their smiles easy, and he feels happy to be where he is, with who he is.

During a lull in the conversation, he sees Kuroo shuffling around, searching for something in the little cross-shoulder bag he’s been carrying all night, the contents of its many pockets unknown. Then he pulls out a lighter and lights it up.

“Hey, Oikawa,” he begins. They all turn to look at him. “We never really celebrated your birthday, did we?” A match in the other side of the country from Oikawa’s side and work commitments from Iwaizumi’s had been to blame.

“So you’re gonna have me blow on that lighter now?” Oikawa asks from where he’s leaning heavily against Iwaizumi, almost like a full-body hug.

“No,” Kuroo grins, then pulls out an opened box of sparklers and lights up a bunch of them, much to the surprise of everyone around him, except Iwaizumi’s, who might have been in on it all along. Oikawa gasps and walks towards Kuroo, making grabby hands at the rest of the unlit sparklers.

“Gimme some!”

Kuroo obliges and gives him a handful of them. Then he passes around some more to the rest of the group and holds up the lighter so everyone can light them up. The sparklers flicker to life and so do their cheers and hoots, yelling happy birthday at Oikawa even though they’re almost three weeks late celebrating it. No one seems to mind, though, most of all not Oikawa who looks almost almost disproportionately happy by just holding a few of them and waving them around in Iwaizumi’s face. His elated giggles are contagious, paired with Iwaizumi’s own, as he hops around the sand while Iwaizumi chases him, seeking revenge. He only laughs harder when Iwaizumi tackles him into the sand. Kuroo and Kenma swing their own sparklers around, clashing them together this way and that as if they’re engaging in the world’s tiniest sword fight, complete with their own amused, breathy sound effects.

Bokuto watches his friends play with childlike glee with a gentle smile of his own before his attention is drawn back to Akaashi, who is sitting next to him with his knees tucked against his chest as he stares fondly at his ignited sparkler like he hadn’t seen one in years. Bokuto, distracted by the flickering shadows on Akaashi’s gentle features, lets his own sparkler die out without sparing it much thought.

He crawls towards Kuroo to ask for the lighter to light up his second one when he notices his first one has burned all the way through, and then crawls right back to where he was, holding it up to Akaashi who is also holding a second unlit sparkler.

“Here,” he offers, and Akaashi touches the tip of his sparkler to Bokuto’s own, both of them watching it come to life between them. Their gazes meet through the flying sparkles, happy crow’s feet framing their eyes as their cheeks rise with their smiles. The knot in Bokuto’s chest only tightens harder.

“Thank you. For letting me into your fun little group,” Akaashi speaks up softly next to him, holding his sparkler up to his face so he can watch the last flickers of it die out.

“Wha—you don’t have to thank us, Akaashi. It was fun also because of you. Besides, you already knew Iwaizumi and Oikawa, so it’s not like you were a total stranger.” Upon saying that, he remembers he still doesn’t quite know how those two met Akaashi. “How did you all meet, anyway?”

“Oh, Oikawa’s grandmother used to live here too, didn’t you know? We met because we’ve been coming here for a long time, always at around the same time of the year, to visit our grandmas and enjoy the seaside. Same interests, similar age... one day I saw them playing volleyball at the beach and asked them if I could join. It just kind of went from there, it was bound to happen.”

“How long ago was that?”

“I believe I might’ve been around sixteen years old.”

“So you’ve known them for almost a decade!” Bokuto lets out a hoot, having no clue they’d known each other for so long.

Akaashi sticks his used sparklers in the sand so he can collect them later and leans back, lying down on the sand with his hands behind his head and eyes on the sky. “I guess we have. But it’s always been very casual. Particularly during high school, when I only came to Japan in the summer—we would hang out here a few times, then we’d go back to wherever we came from and only met again the following year. We might’ve spent more time together this week than we have in the past five or six years combined, actually,” he says with a low chuckle.

“Why, what changed?”

“You showed up,” Akaashi says after a short pause, looking up at Bokuto.

It takes Bokuto a hot second to understand what that means, but he quickly realizes Akaashi means well. It had been Bokuto who had first invited him to play volleyball with them. It was Bokuto who had played the most active part in keeping Akaashi around. The fact that Akaashi is aware of that should make Bokuto wonder if he’d perhaps come on too strong, but he can’t find it in himself to regret a single thing. Whether that’s because he feels slightly tipsy or not, he doesn’t know, but the sudden frontality from Akaashi makes him crack a smile.

He joins Akaashi on the sand, lying down on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. “Well,” he begins, looking up at the sky. “If me showing up has earned you a handful of new friends then I’m more than okay with that.”

  
  
  


— Friday —

_Cute_ , had been the word that had come to Akaashi’s mind the second he’d first laid eyes on Bokuto earlier that week. Big golden eyes open wide, streaked grey hair in a state of controlled chaos and, to top it all off, a bit of a dazed expression plastered on his face—noticeably directed at Akaashi, no less.

Then Akaashi had looked down. Swim shorts hanging low on toned skin, towel thrown over the shoulder, no shirt. The word _hot_ quickly followed, for the duration of the whole 0.5 seconds he let himself look. Then he’d looked back up, saw Bokuto blinking owlishly at him, and he was cute again.

Akaashi’s lightning fast, two-second long analysis of Bokuto had led him to conclude this specific combination of _cute_ and _hot_ could be a potentially troublesome one. And as if on cue, he’d then proceeded to make a fool of himself as he let that particular concern entirely overwrite the fact that he’d tucked a pen in his chest pocket as soon as Bokuto had asked for one, making him forget about it the same way someone forgets where they put their sunglasses while carrying them on the top of their head.

Now, four days later, he has a lot more Bokuto-related words to dwell on. Most of them good, some of them bordering on fond, but they come to mind all the same whenever his brain conjures the thought of this bright-eyed man.

Such are the thoughts he entertains now, sitting at the beach with a snoozing Bokuto next to him, sun closing in on the horizon. It’s their last day here and Kuroo and Kenma are in much the same state as their friend, starfished on the sand, conked out after five days under unyielding sun and blazing, humid heat. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are lazily passing a volleyball between them further down by the water’s edge and the crowd at the beach has dwindled down to a very small fraction of what it usually looks like. A quiet end of the day for a week that has rarely been anything but—in a good sense.

Akaashi is brought out of his thoughts when Bokuto stirs next to him, a sign that he might be slowly making it back to the land of the living. He comes to slowly, blinking his eyes once, twice, three times, until he raises his head and looks up at Akaashi with one eye still closed.

“‘kaashi?” he mumbles, sounding like he’s not quite sure what planet he woke up on.

Akaashi replies, “Good morning.”

Bokuto turns himself around with a groan and rises to a sitting position, then runs his hands through his hair and fluffs it up rather carelessly. Akaashi has noticed he’s not a fan of keeping his hair in anything close to resembling a neat hairstyle, having seen it in both its spiked form and the fluffy mess it turns into whenever he goes for a swim. He’s taken a liking to it.

Bokuto looks around them, sees how close to setting the sun is, and asks, “What time is it?”

“Something close to seven, I’d imagine.”

“Was I out for long?”

“Like an hour, give or take?” Akaashi says, not really sure himself because he, too, had lost track of time while he sat there pondering the singularities of Bokuto Koutarou.

Bokuto groans again and rubs the remaining sleep out of his eyes.

“Somehow you don’t look too happy about that,” Akaashi comments.

“Well, yeah! It’s not like I wanted to spend my last hours here sleeping. Who knew spending a week doing absolutely nothing would tire me out so much. I feel like I need to take the weekend off when I return.”

Akaashi lets out a soft laugh, amused at Bokuto’s definition of _doing absolutely nothing_. “It’s not like you were sleeping all day, every day,” he says. “What time is your train departing at tonight?”

“Like nine something?”

“See, you still have some time left, don’t look so sullen, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, bumping his elbow against Bokuto’s arm in an attempt to jostle him out of his silly funk. “You’re on vacation. Time spent resting is no wasted time. Besides, I’d say you did the most of your stay here, no?”

Akaashi’s words seem to work their magic as whatever had been clouding Bokuto’s mood visibly clears when the furrow of his brow disappears.

“You’re right,” he says, smiling at Akaashi, all of him glowing in the warm sunset light, from his amber eyes to the golden expanse of his skin.

Looking at him, the fleeting thought that he might further gone for this man than he’d previously anticipated runs through Akaashi’s mind. But that also brings on the ensuing thought of going back to his usual routine around here without the added element of chaos that is Bokuto and the rest of his joyful bunch. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, the prospect doesn’t feel as appealing as it should, because as much as he loves his grandmother to bits and pieces and as much as he loves going about his daily life around here, it’s different than having a group of friends he can have some dumb fun with every once in a while.

The lukewarm realization must show on his face, because Bokuto soon speaks up. “What are you thinkin’ about, Akaashi?”

“Nosy,” Akaashi snarks immediately, though with no real spite. He considers saying something entirely unrelated to what’s going through his head, or maybe even not answering at all, but when Bokuto doesn’t retort and keeps looking at him expecting an answer instead, he figures there’d be no real use in hiding anything from him. He tucks his knees against his chest and starts drawing patterns in the sand, uncertain he’d be able to maintain eye contact as he utters his next words. “I almost wish you wouldn’t leave, that’s all. I guess the rest of my time here will be a bit boring.”

A pause as Bokuto processes his words. Akaashi hopes he hasn’t said anything wrong. But then Bokuto quips, “I thought you never got bored around here!”

“And I don’t. I still won’t. But by comparison, I mean, my days will feel a bit more lifeless.”

“Akaashi! If this is your attempt at making me feel better about going back to Tokyo, it’s not working!” That makes Akaashi smile and look up from his hand on the sand. “How much longer are you staying here? ‘Til the end of summer?” Bokuto asks.

“No, I go back to Tokyo in about two weeks.”

“Hey, that’s not long at all! Don’t be so dramatic!”

Akaashi’s smile falls as he squints, “Dramatic? You’re the one who was upset about having slept for forty minutes at the beach just a few moments ago.”

Bokuto kicks his foot against the sand at being so openly called out, but doesn’t really bother to refute. “Whatever! We’ll just have fun in Tokyo instead! You’ll never be bored again, Akaashi.”

And _of course_ he had to latch onto that particular detail. “I won’t be _bored_ , Bokuto-san, please—”

“Life without me sounds very boring, let me tell you!”

Akaashi wants to argue against that statement—more because he can’t let Bokuto have it that easy and less because he actually disagrees with it—but he comes up empty.

Bokuto continues, unmoved, “We’ll play volleyball and you’ll come see my matches, if you want! But you gotta cheer for me, Akaashi! And we can go see other matches as well. Oh, and you can come celebrate with us whenever we win an important game, those nights are always fun!” He stops for a second, like he’s been struck by an intrusive thought. Then, in a much softer tone, “But, you know. Not everything has to be about volleyball. We can do other stuff—if you want. Together.” He’s burying his feet in the sand as he says that, wiggling his toes around, tell-tale signs of an uneasy mind. Even so, it contrasts with the hopeful glint in his eye as he meets Akaashi’s gaze.

Akaashi knows what he’s asking and he gives in easily, never having had any intention of resisting in the first place. “Sounds fun. We can do all of that, Bokuto-san.”

“R—really?!” Bokuto chirps, apparently not having expected a positive response. 

Akaashi wonders just _how_ opaque about his feelings he’s been to warrant such a surprised reaction, particularly when compared to Bokuto, who has been so obviously transparent since the first time they laid eyes on each other. It might be time to put some of his cards on the table as well.

“Yes, really,” he says.

Bokuto lights up, “It’ll be a good thing to look forward to during these next two weeks, then, right?”

“That’s right,” Akaashi says, smiling softly at the prospect and at Bokuto, who returns the smile, previous signs of uncertainty now mostly gone.

Akaashi had actually been planning on asking Bokuto out before he left for Tokyo, unsure if Bokuto would ever do it himself, but he’d just been beaten to the punch. There was, however, one more thing he wanted to do—one more thing he’s been thinking about all day that might shatter any lingering doubts in Bokuto’s mind. It’s more of a question, really, and it is whether or not he wants to let this man go back to Tokyo unkissed. Bokuto, who’s so generous with his happiness and so contagious with his energy. Bokuto, who let his eyes fall to Akaashi’s lips just now and might be considering a similar thing. The answer to his question is an easy one in Akaashi’s mind, and he will not let Bokuto take the initiative this time.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Bokuto’s mouth before he has any chance of stealing it from him instead.

_Warm_ , is the first thing that comes to Akaashi’s mind. Bokuto is so warm. Comforting, welcoming, and many other words he doesn’t have the brain capacity to process at the moment. He feels Bokuto flinch momentarily at the sudden movement and then ease into it, pressing back against Akaashi’s mouth with a kiss of his own. Akashi revels in the feeling of kissing and of _being kissed_ in return, letting out a relieved sigh as his shoulders relax. It feels good. It feels right.

That was meant to be it—a featherlight kiss, a small prologue of things to come, something to carry them through the next two weeks. But _just_ as Akaashi is about to pull away, he feels Bokuto sliding a hand through the back of his neck, gently bringing them even closer. Their mouths part just enough for their lips to fit better against each other, just enough to send Akaashi’s heart flying up into his throat, just enough that all he will be thinking about— _exclusively_ —for the next two weeks is kissing Bokuto senseless.

They break the kiss and the inferno burning in Bokuto’s golden eyes matches the heat of the thousand suns incinerating Akaashi’s insides. He desperately needs to break the tension before he goes back for a second kiss, and a third, and a fourth. He desperately needs to cool down.

“Last one in the water pays for our first date back in Tokyo,” Akaashi says, grins, and that’s all the warning he gives before he springs to his feet and dashes towards the ocean twinkling golden in the sunset.

Bokuto is up and chasing after him in less than a second, yelling. “Akaashi!! You can’t just do that and then run away! That’s so not cool!”

Akaashi tumbles over a wave and dives, followed by Bokuto. Both of them struggle not to swallow mouthfuls of salt water through their euphoric laughter.

It isn’t usually the case when he comes down to the seaside, but today Akaashi is looking forward to going back to Tokyo.

—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rly hope this was at least half as fun to read as it was to write. english isn't my first language so if you see any glaring mistakes please let me know!! comments are encouraged especially bc i'm kinda nervous to be posting this lel
> 
> i hope you're all staying happy, healthy and hydrated!  
> thank you for reading!! and feel free to come keep me company [on twitter](https://twitter.com/yoongoboongi) ♡


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